


Sunlight

by shiranuigenma



Series: stolen moments [1]
Category: Naruto, Naruto Shippuden
Genre: Canon? What Canon?, M/M, Sexual Content, everyone lives au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 12:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19013164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiranuigenma/pseuds/shiranuigenma
Summary: Itachi spends longer than he would care to admit studying Shisui, wanting to reach out and smooth his sleep-mussed hair, trace the shape of his face, but he does not want to wake him. Instead, he thinks about how beautiful he is and for the first time in a long time, Itachi feels at peace. For the moment, nothing is wrong. There is no one to fight, no one to protect. For the moment, the sight of Shisui like this belongs entirely to Itachi.





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> So a little explanation as to why this fic was deleted: This fic was an unintended and entirely accidental casualty of my dumb ass deciding to purge most of my fics from AO3/Tumblr. _Sunlight_ was one of the chosen ones, it wasn't meant to be deleted, but I was either sleep deprived or wasn't paying attention or something and messed up. 
> 
> But! I'm here today to rectify that mistake (after several months because above all else I am a procrastinator) and reupload it to both AO3 and Tumblr. Enjoy!
> 
>  **Prompt:** "Sunlight" requested by anon.

Itachi wakes with the sun, blinking groggily as his bedroom comes into focus, the weak golden sunlight filtering through the thin curtains slowly but surely spreads into the room. There is a weight across his waist and a warmth at his back, and he carefully wriggles loose of the hold and turns to look at Shisui, sleeping soundly beside him, the light just beginning to illuminate his features.

He spends longer than he would care to admit studying the older man, wanting to reach out and smooth his sleep-mussed hair, trace the shape of his face, but he does not want to wake him. Instead, he thinks about how beautiful he is, admiring the splash of his hair on the pillow, a stark contrast of dark against bright, bleached white, and for the first time in a long time, Itachi feels at peace. For the moment, nothing is wrong. There is no one to fight, no one to protect. For the moment, the sight of Shisui like this belongs entirely to Itachi.

In his heart, he knows this cannot last. It has long been a custom for the Uchiha to marry within their own clan, a tactic designed to keep the bloodline pure and the Kekkei Genkai strong, but even something so morally questionable had rules; they were expected to find suitable wives and father heirs to further the bloodline trait, and to be with another man as they would be with a woman was forbidden. Itachi knows that Shisui doesn't care, but he isn't the son of the head of the clan. He doesn't face the same expectations, hasn't been raised from birth to carry the weight of the clan's future on his shoulders.

But for this moment, neither does Itachi. This moment he can allow himself to have, and he can't resist the urge to activate his Sharingan, to commit this moment to memory. No matter what their futures hold, he will always have this, and he will always have Shisui, forever imprinted on his soul.

He can no longer resist.

He reaches out to touch.

Shisui stirs beneath his hand, feather-light as it is against his cheek, and a sleepy smile slowly crosses his face as he blinks slowly at Itachi. He loves that smile, and he decides the conversation they need to have can wait. He wants to hold onto this for as long as he can.

"Morning," Shisui murmurs, turning his head to press a soft kiss to Itachi's palm. "You're up early." If he notices Itachi's Sharingan, he says nothing, instead shifting closer and wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close to his chest. Itachi lets himself relax into his lover's hold, nuzzling his head beneath Shisui's chin and pressing his lips to his chest.

Itachi can't bring himself to speak, to ruin the quiet peace of the moment, so he doesn't; instead he tips his head back and searches for Shisui's mouth, meeting him a slow, tender kiss. It's bittersweet, the soft touch of the other man's lips and the way his arms tighten around him, and when he rolls onto his back so Itachi is laying on his chest, it _aches_. But he pushes that thought from his mind, carefully shifting until his knees touch the mattress on either side of Shisui's body and he can feel him, already hardening against his backside.

Shisui moans as Itachi shifts again, this time inching forward so he can reach back to curl his hand around the other man's length, giving him a slow, almost lazy stroke, cocking his head as he studies the change in his expression - the way his eyes flutter shut, lips parting slightly as his head presses back into the pillow, the slight flush of his pale cheeks... He is so beautiful it leaves him breathless.

Shisui holds him steady with one hand as he reaches for the bedside table, his head turning to look for the bottle they had discarded last night, and Itachi can't resist leaning forward to kiss the taut skin of his throat, feeling his lover shiver as he moves to trace the line of Shisui's jaw with his tongue. He loves that he is the one that can draw these reactions from the other man, that he is the one permitted to touch and to taste - again, he thinks of what is expected of them, and he can't even begin to entertain the idea of anyone else getting to enjoy Shisui in this manner.

This is his, as Shisui is his, and as his lover loses focus on the bottle when Itachi kisses him, he decides then and there that he doesn't give a damn about what is expected of him. It's not as if he is the last Uchiha, there are others to carry on the family bloodline.

All he cares about is Shisui and each gentle, loving touch the other man is giving him as he prepares to take him again.

He can't help but moan at the soft pressure of Shisui's finger, angling his hips to allow the man easier access as he slips one long, slick finger inside him, and he forgets to breathe when he adds a second, gentle as he moves and scissors those fingers, carefully stretching him before adding a third.

When Shisui finally withdraws his fingers, Itachi is breathing heavily, face buried in the crook of his lover's neck and lips moving as he wordlessly begs, settling back as Shisui gently pushes at his hips with one hand, the other gripping his cock as he lines himself up at Itachi's entrance.

He is as slow and gentle as he was the first time as he presses in, sucking in a deep, trembling breath when Itachi shifts to take him in fully, impatient with the speed, or lack thereof, of things. Itachi moans again at the sensation of being full and Shisui's fingers tangling in the dark cascade of his hair, pulling him in for another insistent kiss.

"I love you," Shisui gasps against his mouth as Itachi begins to move, each rise and roll of his hips slow and carefully controlled, in no rush to chase after release, instead entirely focused on the feeling of the slick slide of his lover inside him, the hot, open-mouthed kisses he's placing on every bit of Itachi he can reach, hands warm and heavy on Itachi's hips.

This is more than mere release - it's a connection of body and soul, an expression of emotions that run deeper than the bonds of blood.

It's about Shisui and Itachi, finally allowing themselves to come together in the light of day.


End file.
